The Golden Opportunity: The Prequel
by dmwcool1
Summary: How was life for the Prides before meeting Buzz? What was Buzz's life like before meeting the Prides? And what about everybody else in Eastwood City? Working title. Bo/Woody I guess some Buzz/Jessie depending on how you look at it. Rating may change
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: If you had not already read Th Golden Opportunity, I highly suggest you read it. Otherwise, you may see somewhat lost in this story.**

**I'm so happy to see that my viewers loved The Golden Opportunity so much that they voted on my poll for both a sequel AND prequel. What? Oh you guys are spoiling me ;-)  
****So I apologize if these two chapters are quite jumpy. I had a whole background story thought out for Woody, Jessie, and Bo but I realized that if I put the whole story up the story would just move too slow. So yeah, yet again sorry if they don't make any sense.**

He couldn't stand it. Her sobs seemed to stab through his heart like a blade. Worst of all, he didn't know how to soothe her. Rubbing her shoulder in comfort, the woman turned to look at Woodrow Pride; her eyes were welled with sorrow and her forehead creased with pain.

"Mom," he whispered, "It's alight. I-I'm sure they are fine." Reaching for the newspaper Bonnie Anderson clenched, he slowly pulled it out and unfolded it. The headline burned into his memory and sight. 'Thousands are Killed on the Way of the Oregon Trail' the black, bold letters read.

"It's impossible for them _not_ to have died," Bonnie cried, burying her face into her hands. She sheepishly turn to her son and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry that you have to see me like this, Woody. You're only a child."

"Mom, I'm eighteen. I'm practically an adult."

"_Barely_ an adult," she joked. She paused and searched his face with her brunette eyes. "I can't believe how much you've grown…" She started to cry again when she remembered the last vital conversation she had with her husband:

"_I'm not allowing it!" Bonnie shouted, stomping her feet. Her husband stood in front of her in complete, mellowed silence._

"_This can be a great opportunity!" her husband defended, "Bob and I can set up a coalmining business in Oregon! Can you imagine all the money we can make? If you're grandparents were lucky enough to strike it big with the gold mining business, what makes us any different?"_

"_What about the children? They can't travel all those miles!"_

"_Then it can be just Bob and I."_

"_And I'll go to maintain domestic life," cut in Estelle Peterson. "Besides, since your husband and my husband are already employees, they can make very good business partners. Isn't that right, Bob?"_

"_Sure," Bob agreed. Bonnie exchanged skeptical looks with the three adults. _

"_And, since they are building a railroad as we speak, once when our business is thriving, we'll send you and the kids."_

"_Why can't you just wait until the railroad is finished?" asked Bonnie._

"_Well, we want to be the first immigrants there," answered Bob Peterson._

_Giving a small grin, Bonnie Walked up to her husband and gave him a kiss. "This __can __be a great thing…," she commented, poking his nose playfully. "Fine. I let you go with the Petersons."_

"_Don't you mean Mr. and Mrs. Potatohead?" teased her husband._

"_Please," she added, "Be safe."_

Approximately it was a week ago that the adults shared that discussion.

"You're going to have to excuse me, Woody," Bonnie hastily informed, rushing to her room. Just then, the twelve year old Jessica Pride skipped it, her pigtails jumping up and down after every skip.

"Hey, Woody," she greeted, "I'm goin' on a horse ride. Wanna come with-" Noticing her brother quickly folding the newspaper and hiding it under his arm, Jessie raised her eyebrow in curiosity. "Whacha got there?"

"Nothing," he mumbled. Sliding into the couch, the girl tried to snatch it from him.

"Lemme see it!"

"Quit it!" After grabbing the newspaper and letting out a laugh of satisfaction, her smile faded away instantly.

"W-weren't, weren't they heading to Oregon? Dad and the Potatoheads?" she questioned, rereading the title.

"Yes…" Stillness surrounding them, a lone tear fell from Jessie's face, darting onto the title page of the newspaper. "Please don't cry, Jessie."

"Why not? Don't I got every reason to be sad?"

"I'm sure they're still-"

"-alive? How do you know? It's more probable that they're dead than a live so we might as well _get use to it_."

"Don't get hysterical, Jessie," Woody warned, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Mom is already in bad shape…"

"Yeah. It makes sense, Woody, doesn't it? Her husband and closest friends…_dead_."

"Quiet down, Jessie. I don't want Bo to hear…" The redhead's shoulders dropped.

"That's right. _Both_ of her parents are…gone. Woody, how are we gonna break it to her?" The teenager shook his head slowly, clearing his throat.

"I don't know, Jessie, I don't know."

When dinnertime came rolling around, the Pride siblings were silent. Murmuring to herself, a habit she had ever since she could talk whenever she had sadness or anxiety, Jessie cursed the causes of the Oregon immigrants according to the newspaper: natural disasters and diseases.

"I hate what happened to them," she breathed angrily, "Earthquakes and…and starvation…" Suddenly, Bonnie emerged from the back; her face was pale and her worry lines appeared on her visage.

"I just finished breaking the news to Bo," she alerted quietly, bringing her hands up, "Now I don't want you two to say anything to her. If she doesn't want to have dinner with us, let her be."

"Can we just not have dinner as a family tonight?" asked Woody, clutching the plates in his hands tighter. "I-it's to painful to see that the empty chairs here will never be filled…"

"I'm not hungry, either," Jessie added. Bonnie wrung her hands pensively, deciding what action she should carry out.

"I'll tell you what," she finally announced, "Well go on a horse ride. Each of us gets a horse."

"I'll get them ready in the stables," notified Jessie, setting down her cups on the counter.

"Wait a minute you two," Bonnie interrupted extending out her arms on either side of her body, "C'mere." As the brother and sister placed themselves under their mother's arms, Bonnie kissed them both on top of their heads, standing of her toes to reach Woody. "I'm very proud. Both of you. For staying so strong about this."

"Of course," Jessie concurred, trying to distract herself from the tragedy she just experienced, "We're Prides. Were strong."

"Especially the man at the house here," teased Woody.

"Man?" Bonnie lightheartedly interrogated.

"Yes. After all I _am_ eighteen years old. I'm practically an adult." The mother smiled at their inside joke and poked his nose with her finger.

"_Barely _an adult," she finished, tilting her head forward as she looked up with her hazel eyes.

**What a depressing way to start, huh? I'm sorry, things will get more chipier. I promise ;-)**


	2. Chapter 2

"Happy birthday, Jessie!" Bo exclaimed, hugging the fresh-faced female. The shepherdess them brought up the vase of flowers she held at her waist, pushing them forward. "Here, I got you these flowers from the fields. I hope you like them."

"Oh," the birthday girl sighed, smelling the colorful plants shoved in her face, "They're gorgeous Bo. Thank you." Embracing her for a grateful hug, she caught eye contact with her grinning brother. Turning around, the blonde glanced over to the young cowboy.

"I think your brother wants to see you alone. I'll get dinner ready."

"I figured you're old enough to receive this," Woody began as he watched Bo leave the room. Holding out a small gold chain, he revealed a gold charm at the bottom. It was molded to shape a horseshoe, diamonds coating it from end to end. Jessie brought her hand to her mouth as she almost dropped her flowers from shock.

"Woody, is this-"

"Looks familiar?" The candle burning next to him was reflected by the group of diamonds on the charm. "Passed down from grandma to mom to the third female generation of Pride."

"I don't know what to say," Jessie gaped, holding her hair up to help assist her brother in clamping the clasp at the nape of her neck. Woody stood back, looking at the charm that rested on her collar bone. "Well?"

"Beautiful." Suddenly, Jessie's expression dropped drastically and she looked at the necklace.

"I really miss her, Woody. It's not right that she's in an asylum. She's perfectly sane."

"I miss Mom, too. But lets only think of happy things tonight. After all, you're the birthday girl."

"I think y'mean birthday _woman_," the eighteen year old declared, "After all, I'm now an adult."

"_Barely_ an adult," Woody joked with a wink.

* * *

"I must say, Bo, you're meat loaf was extraordinary tonight," complimented Woody as the blonde collected the used plates.

"Thank you, Woody," Bo commented, giving a playful curtsy.

"I'll be back in a sec," Jessie announced, brushing the skirt of her dress uncomfortably.

"I suppose I can help you with the dishes," Woody offered, watching his sister saunter away.

"It's fine. I already placed them in the bucket of water to soak," informed Bo, coming out of the kitchen. A small feeling of disappointment filled in his chest but it soon vanished when she slid her slender body into the seat across from Woody. She let out a forced laugh as she looked around the table.

"It's amazing how time changes," her silky voice stated, "We still have seven chairs here, you know. Only for the three of us."

"I know. Maybe we should turn this place into an orphan house," Woody joked. He felt relieved when he saw Bo smiling with him.

"Why not?" she countered, "There's an 18 year old orphan living here with two 24 year old orphans."

"Speaking of moving in, I heard back from the people who want to rent this place."

"You mean the McWiggins?" she asked, clasping her hands and placing her elbows on the table.

"Yeah. There are only gonna stay for a month but the money's good. So they are going to stay in the barn. You guys meet them before, right?"

"You mean Jessie and I? Of course, it was only a brief encountering."

"They're nice people, aren't they?"

"Mmm-hmm but I think a certain girl here agrees so as well. Especially for the son." Woody furrowed his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is I think Jessie may fancy the son. After meeting them, I noticed how red her face was."

"Oh, I see," Woody groaned. "I hope there won't be any messing around then…"

Bo gave a shrug. "I don't know, _we've _managed to control ourselves." Rapidly, Woody's heart threw itself against the walls of his rib cage, causing him to almost physically hold his chest. Her statement took him by surprise, he wasn't sure what was her meaning behind that statement was.

"W-what do you mean?" he questioned, squirming in his chair. Bo gave a charming giggle and rested her chin on her hands.

"Relax cowboy, I was joking." Messing with his hair, he let out an anxious chuckle.

"I should've known by know you _are_ a flirt," Woody said under his breath with a smirk. "How else would we get such good deals at the market?"

"Hey!" she shouted, swatting his arm playfully, "I get those deals by _charm._"

"Mmm-hmm…"

"Hey, you guys," Jessie interrupted as she entered the room, "I'm gonna check on the horses." Woody's face dropped in exasperation as he observed his sister.

"Jessie, you're _not_ gonna wear my clothes again," he objected.

"Why? They're comfortable!"

"Jessie I-"

"Oh let her wear them, Woody," cut in Bo, "It's her birthday." His posture became more stiff as he anxiously play with his fingers.

"W-well, alright," he allowed, looking at Bo. Jessie walked over to pat her brother on the back.

"Ah, Bo, my little weapon. You can manipulate him well," Jessie bantered, receiving a dirty look from Woody.

After leaving the room to go outside, Bo pushed her chair back.

"I'm going to my room now," she notified, "See ya, Mr. Pride." Woody felt her lips press against his head in a farewell kiss, making his internal organs seem to spin inside. He soon heard snickering from afar and turned to see it was his sister leaning by the doorway.

"Jessie! Aren't you suppose to be in the stables?"

She cocked her head nonchalantly. "Yeah but I couldn't miss this."

"Miss what?"

"The proof that I have to know that you like her."

"Like who? Bo?"

"Like who? Bo?" Jessie mocked, "C'mon don't play innocent with me. You like her. You gotta little crush!"

"So do you," Woody shot back, crossing his arms in satisfaction. Jessie immediately rubbed her arm in defense.

"Oh r-really? Who?" she inquired.

"The McWiggins' son. Bo told me how red you were after you met him."

"Do not!" she defended, stomping her foot. Waving her away with his hand while giving a silent guffaw, Woody rocked back and forth in glee.

"You should see the look on your face. Go ahead Jessie and do your thing at the stables. But remember," he brought up, pointing his finger upwards in front of him, "He's gonna be here for a month. I hope you won't get married in the meantime."

"Screw you!" she shouted, throwing her hat at him as she left. Woody loved to annoy his sister.

**So quite a jump in the timeline, I know. I promise I'll stay within this timeframe for the next few chapters so that you guys don't get jetlag ;). Thank you for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Buzz ;-)**

"I would consider myself to be very privileged at nineteen years old. My father owns a railroad line, so I love to take train rides. And I know that your dad is owner of the Lightyear Textile Industry. Do you like clothes?"

"Well I-"

"I _love _clothes! Being surrounded by the greatest quality early on in my life, I can truly appreciate different styles and materials and-"

_What am I doing with __her__ of all people?_ Edward Lightyear wondered. _I have no interest in her yet that's __all __she has interest in…_

"I've traveled many places, too. Have you ever been to New York, Eddy?"

"Eddy?" he questioned out loud.

"You like it?," the woman chirped, "It's your nickname I made up for you. Why? Have you ever had a nickname before?"

"Well my nickname is Buzz." The woman blankly stared at him and cocked her head to the side. "Buzz. You can call me Buzz."

"Buzz?"

"Buzz."

"Oh that's nice," she murmured with a faux smile, "Anyway, where have you traveled before, Eddy?" He stifled a yawn as he looked out of his clothing shop through the store window, then turned his head to his building next door.

"I'm sorry to cut you off such short notice Stacy-"

"It's Stephanie," she said defiantly.

"Well, Stacy is my new nickname for you. I have to go back inside the textile building to, uh, check on my inventory. But," he suggested calmly, "You can finish shopping with your mother in the shop here."

"You're right," she mumbled submissively, twirling her hair as she glanced around the inventory, "This shop _does_ have some good looking clothes in here." Soon after she joined her mother, Buzz stormed out of the store and into the industrial building that was adjacent to it. Having his eyes adjust to the sudden dimness in the shop, he started to see a silhouette leaning on the doorway that was approaching him.

"How did it go?" asked the figure ahead of him.

"I'm telling you Ken," Buzz began, brushing past him to reach the desk in the next room, "They are all the same. All the girls I've met"

"-Or been set up with," added Ken with a smirk. Buzz buried his face in his hands and sighed heavily. Pulling out the chair behind the desk with his foot, he slumped into it as he rubbed his face.

"It's a waste of time," he hissed, "It's all a waste of time…" With the door bursting open, both of the men peered over to see who was entering.

"Hello, Mr. Lightyear," greeted Ken, tipping his beret, causing the man to stop and glance at him.

"Always one for a keen eye for fashion sense, Ken," he pointed out with approval.

"Hello, Father," Buzz welcomed, grasping the arms of the chair he rested in.

"So, how was the girl?" Zurg Lightyear eagerly asked, readjusting his suit, "Isn't she something?" Buzz and Ken uneasy exchanged looks, Buzz visually asking Ken what to do next. Ken, who was behind the man, gave Buzz the thumbs up and nodded his head.

"Ahem well," Buzz started, rearranging himself in the chair, "She's lively."

"Really?" the father responded, crossing his arms in interest, "What did you talk about?"

"Uh well, uh…" The stammering young man looked over to his friend again, pleading for guidance in his answer. However, he knew that Ken was no help for he was in the building the whole time and hadn't heard one word of their conversation.

"Yes…?" Zurg Lightyear urged.

"She talked about…herself," he admitted, dropping his shoulders in a physical defeat, "A lot. Too much, in fact."

"Did you try to add to the conversation at all?"

"I might have-"

"-told her to go to her mother to leave your alone?" Buzz knew a dilemma between him and his father was leading their way. "I overheard, Edward."

"It's not like she mind. She _wanted_ to go shopping."

"I don't understand it Buzz," his father complained, "I introduce you to nice girls and yet you throw them away. You don't give them the time of the day. When are you going to find someone? I want you to be happy Buzz."

"I _am_ happy. I don't need to be a husband to be happy."

"I think I'll head out on this one, you two," informed Ken, grabbing the door handle, "I'll be outside."

"I was your age when I loved the woman I had loved every since my early teens," Zurg choked, "Married for two years, and I lost her to childbirth while she was giving birth to you. I was only twenty years old like you and I was a father and widower."

"Thank you, father," Buzz sardonically stated, "I feel much better now about myself." His father strolled to the desk and kneel on the floor. Crossing his arms on the desk, he rested his head on his forearms. His eyes shined with compassion.

"Buzz, you're probably the best thing that could happen to me. What I mean is I want you to experience that romance. I don't want you fill your life with work and never feel love."

"But I _love_ doing this, father," Buzz defended. "Besides, you've always told me to keep my head straight. Work hard to be the best in the business. That's what you always trained me to do." Zurg let out a distressed chuckle.

"It seems I trained you too well." Then, his face fell. "You are my son and I love you. But you are at a point in your life where men your age are already getting married. I just want to you know how it's like to be in love. I want you to appreciate other parts of life and success."

"But you can't force it on me," Buzz countered. "Those girls are _not_ my type of girls."

"Then what is your type?" The heir traced the design etched into the desk mindlessly.

"I'll know when I meet her…"

* * *

Striding out the building after his father excused him for a business meeting, Buzz tapped Ken on the shoulder who was waiting by the Lightyear Company shop. Ken fixed his hat and gave a cynical upward turn of the lips. Leaning back on the same wall as his friend, Buzz crossed his arms and looked around, avoiding Ken's face.

"So," Ken began, smothering his abrupt guffaws, "Did you guys arrange the marriage already?" Shoving him slightly to control his partner's uncontrollable laughter, Buzz rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"I wish he would stop doing that," Buzz sighed, shaking his head.

"He's like a mother pushing her daughter to marry."

"That's what makes this situation worse. My own father seems to not have a grasp of what gender the both of us are." Ken put a sympathetic hand on his counterpart's shoulder.

"He means the best, Buzz."

"Sure, he means the best. I got it, he wants me to be happy. But he doesn't listen to-"

"Excuse me, gentlemen," a young voice cut off. The two industrialists turned to face a jubilant female with a beaming smile holding what they guessed at least three dress in her arms. Her blonde hair flowed to her waist, the front pieces of it was trapped behind her ears. "I tried asking the store clerk what fabric these dresses were but he hadn't had a clue. He told me to see you guys since you two work for the company."

"Of course," replied Buzz, raising an eyebrow in perplexity, "Uh, I believe this fabric is…uh…Ken," he discontinued as he turned to see the fabric designer, "Could you help us out here?" Ken stared with his mouth slight ajar. "Ken!"

"Oh, r-right," he mumbled, walking up to the blonde. Stumbling over his words during his deliberation of the fabrics, Buzz couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's jittery behavior.

"Thank you for the explanation," the woman said, holding up the dresses, "I'll be purchasing them right away." As she turned her body, she felt a hand on her arm, causing her to face the men again.

"Wait," Ken halted, gently pulling her closer to him, "What's your name?" The woman pulled fleeing golden strands of hair behind her ear.

"Barbra," she answered, "But you can call me Barbie."

"Barbie," he repeated, "That's cute. Your name matches you perfectly." Barbie let out a shy giggle and started to head back towards the opposite direction.

"I'll see you around, Ken!" she called back, leaving Ken's legs to slightly wobble. After witness her departure, Ken turned to his smirking friend.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"You know what," Buzz countered. "Somebody's got a little crush."

"On Barbie?"

"Ken and Barbie. I like that sound of that," Buzz teased. But he felt a sting of dissatisfaction when his friend didn't show and irritation but rather approval of his statement.

"Ken and Barbie," Ken echoed, observing her purchase clothes through the store window, "It _does_ have a nice ring to it…" They watched her fold the dresses as she strolled to the exiting door.

"Bye you guys," Barbie called out, walking out the store.

"Bye Barbra," Buzz dismissed with a courteous grin.

"S-see you later, Barbie!" Ken called out, extending his arm in an over exaggerated wave.

"You're a mess, Ken," Buzz retorted with a guffaw.

"Wait till you find someone," Ken shot back, punching his friend lightly, "Then you'll be stammering and acting like a fool all over the place."

"Right," Buzz bantered, rolling his eyes, "That's the _last_ thing I'll be doing."


	4. Chapter 4

Looking through the kitchen, Bo had realized the three household residents were in need of more meat. Room after room, she searched from Woody to request money to buy some at the market in town. Finally, peering out the window of her bedroom, she saw him planting seeds in a bare part of the field he created by the rake in his hands. Her fragile fingers grasped the doorknob in front of her and pressed it open, emitting a quiet creak as she touched her foot onto the concrete porch step under her.

"Woody," she called out, raising her hand to her forehead due to the blazing sunlight after the door slammed shut, "Can I have some money to go to the market?" He continued to work without hesitation. _Must've not heard me _Bo thought. "Woody!" Eventually he turned around and gestured his arm as an invitation.

"What is it Bo?" he asked with a grin.

"There's no more meat. Can I have some money? I'm going into town to buy some more."

"Sure, Bo," Woody approved, wiping his perspiring face, "There's money in the vault of the living room. I'm afraid there isn't much cash, though."

"Oh dear," Bo sighed, "Alright, I'll stretch out the money as far as I possibly can…" Woody detected Bo's discouragement and wrapped an arm around her.

"Don't worry, Bo. This family coming in will give us enough money to last for months. A-and with the crops growing in, we won't need as much food. Plus, the Buffalo are migrating again…" Bo gave him a feeble smile.

"Oh Woody. You always know what to say in the worst circumstances." Suddenly, hearing horns and cheers, Bo and Woody averted their attention to the campaigning horse carriages and vehicles from the distance. Bo wordlessly paced towards the scene, stopping at the fence that was ahead of her.

"If only we were rich like them," the shepherdess announced, pointing to the politicians in the automobiles passing by the Pride farm.

"I don't know, Blondie, I say we're almost there," Woody joked as he hauled the dirt with his rake. The slender female vivaciously turned to look at the young man, coyly cocking her head to the side as she swung her arms behind her.

"If you were the richest guy on earth I'd marry you in a second. Would you marry me if I was rich?"

Woody paused slightly and raised his eyebrow. Straightening his posture, he let out a nervous chuckle. "In an instant," he retorted.

"Well, it's a good thing we aren't rich," she answered, "Otherwise we'd be marrying people all over the place. Oh well, I guess as long as I'm poor, I'll never be with someone."

Woody's teasing tone dropped. "That's not necessarily true." Her attention turned to him again, her expression dropping. Her eyes searched him and retreated back to his brown eyes. She then gave him a small grin.

"You're right," she agreed, walking up to him, "It's not." The both of them stood in silence until they heard cheers again.

"What are they cheering for?" Bo asked, trying to shake the intimate moment she had with Woody from her head. Woody picked up on her tone.

"Oh, uh, I think it's for the upcoming political campaigns," he guessed.

"Well, I'll find out while going into town," Bo decided as she walked away.

"Bo?" Woody questioned, "aren't you gonna take a horse?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"How are you gonna lug that piece of meat all the way back here?"

"Too big for my size?"

"It's heavy, Bo."

"Jessie will come with me then," she suggested defiantly, rising to her toes. Woody looked down uneasily shaking his head.

"It's not safe for her, Bo," he finally warned, placing his hands on his hips.

"Woody," Bo persuaded, placing her hand on his cheek, "She'll be fine with me."

"What about Stinky Pete?"

"What about him? He's just a little council member. She's done nothing wrong to him. Besides, I highly doubt he'll spot her."

Taking a deep sigh, Woody's shoulders rose as he inhaled and lowered as he exhaled. He showed her a face of confusion. "Alright, I'll let you two go. But make sure her face is covered. I don't want anybody recognizing her." Bo rose on her toes again and pecked his cheek in a grateful response.

"Jessie!" he heard her yell as she proceeded inside, "Get dressed! We're going to the market!"

* * *

"I haven't been in town for so long!" Jessie exclaimed as she pushed her veil back.

"No no, Jessie," Bo hastily halted, concealing the redhead's face once again, "I promised your brother that I'd protect your identity in order for you come here." Ignoring Jessie's objections, Bo tugged her arm towards the meat department. The two females walked up to a stand that seemed to have evry inch covered by a type of meat.

"How are ya, little lady?" greeted the portly man behind the stand. "Who's your friend?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Bo curtsied, "This is Jessica. She's sensitive to the sun, so she must have her face covered." Despite Bo's words, Jessie still lifted her veil, revealing her smiling face.

"Howdy, sir," Jessie spoke, immediately dropping her veil when Bo turned around to face the rebelling girl, "My, you gotta lot o' meat here."

"They don't call me Hamm for nothing," the man teased, "What're ya having, Bo?" As the shepherdess started to consider which to choose, Jessie wandered into the clothing shop across from the meat stand. Heading over to the store, she noticed the skirt of her dress was dragging as particles of dust attaching themselves to the hem of the dress. She impatiently shoved her sleeves up to her elbows, exposing her forearms in hope of feeling a slight breeze against her flesh. The reflection in the window showed her untidy crimson hair. She finally entered into the store, passing by two young men that were leaning on the wall.

"Check out _that _mess," Ken mumbled, watching her saunter in.

"She's got herself in quite a fix, hasn't she?," Buzz commented, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to make out her face under the veil.

"Never seen her before. Has she been to our shop before? She doesn't seem to be the type to go here regularly with _those_ outdated clothes…"

"As long as she makes a purchase, I don't care _who _she is," Buzz joked, nudging his friend.

* * *

"Thank you, Hamm," Bo uttered, lifting the large cut of meat in front of her, "Jessica and I really appri-" Rotating her body to face the cowgirl, she noticed her absence. "Jessica? Jessica!" She turned back to Hamm. "Have you seen her?"

"Eh, I saw her heading that way to Lightyear's," he said, pointing behind Bo.

"Oh perfect!" she grumbled, storming across the street, "Thank you, Hamm!"

* * *

Bo hunted for the missing girl as she crossed the threshold to the shop. Finally, she spotted her, unaware of the pity looks the women around her gave.

"Jessica Jane Pride!" Bo hissed under her breath as she grasped Jessie's arm.

"Ow!" Jessie whined, "What was that for?"

"You weren't suppose to _leave_. Are you mad?"

"I kept the veil on like you told me to…" Jessie meekly defended.

"Lets go," Bo demanded, tugging the young redhead out the store. "You're lucky I don't tell your brother about this." _Lucky for me too,_ Bo thought, _He'd __kill__ me…_

"Have a nice day!" Buzz and Ken called out simultaneously when the rushing females zoomed out their store.

"Who're they?" Jessie questioned. Bo told her that one of them was Edward Lightyear, the heir to Lightyear Textile Company. The other was Kenneth Sean Carson, the eccentric fabric designer and close friend of Edward Lightyear. "Do you know them?" Jessie quizzed.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Because they can't keep their eyes off of us," Jessie pointed out, twisting her body to look back at them.

"Probably because you're moving your body around like a chicken." Suddenly, the blonde gasped glancing at the cowgirl. Bo looked down at the hem of Jessie's dress as she paused to roll down the cowgirl's sleeves. "Oh Jessie! You got you're dress torn _and _dirty. You're such a slob!" Jessie returned her a smile of self-satisfaction.

"And you're _such_ a girl…"

**For some reason I feel like I'm writing a Disney movie...**


	5. Chapter 5

The gloomy atmosphere sunk into every pore of her body. Her brown hair stuck on her face as if it feared what was to come next. Readjusting her body uncomfortably, her eyes darted around the room, trying to make out the interior that surrounded her. It was a strange combination; luxurious pieces contrasted the contaminated furniture. A delicate lamp, having a covering of burgundy lace and what appeared to be a hand painted base, rested on a desk with tarnishing hand knobs that seemed to give off an aloof demeanor. The chair she stiffly sat in had armrests rotting from the ends, almost pleading to end its suffering by ending its life. Feeling a nail stab her at the back of her thigh, it caused her to jerk upward slightly and give a small yelp. She shuddered as she heard her own voice echo from the broken piano in the farthest corner.

_I wonder what that would be doing here…_

The doorknob shined for its brass coat as the chipping paint of the door gave the impression of little fingers reaching out towards her in temptation of escaping. They seemed to mimic her. Or perhaps feel pity for her. Suddenly, the door swung open, blowing away all opportunity of freedom and unlocked all judgment towards the trivial female.

"I had to put ya in here 'cause you were acting up at the voting both," the silhouette in the door frame explained, "But _don't_ think I'm gonna take any of that in here. Got that?" She crossed her arms and huffed. "What's you're name?" At first, she brought her body closer to her core, defending herself, by pulling her legs in and dropping her head slowly. The figure sighed. "I said what's your name?"

"You expect me to say my name when I can't even see you?" she mumbled. The shadow stood in stillness for a moment, then lingered in the room, pulling out the seat she sat opposite from behind the desk.

"What's your name?" he asked again, intertwining his fingers and resting his hands on his desk. He leaned in, exposing the wrinkles etched on his forehead and around his mouth. His stare from his beady eyes seemed to burn into her skull.

"Bonnie Anderson," she finally uttered, raising her chin triumphantly.

"I'm lieutenant Lotso," the man introduced, furrowing his eyebrows. "Now tell me, what was that commotion about at the voting booth?"

"I want to run for city council, sir," she demanded, pulling her chain in under her knees touched his desk.

"Women can't even _vote_," he pointed out as he chuckled, "Let alone _run_ for anything." She sat in silence, glaring at him. "Besides, there's already someone for that position, and he ain't leaving anytime soon, Miss Anderson."

"I don't care," she whispered.

"Well, I think somebody does." Before she could ask what he meant, she saw an elderly man pass through the entrance. She gasped when she recognized him and dropped her arms helplessly.

"Guess who?" the man teased, twirling his pickaxe. "Where's your son? Is he grown up now?" His voice dropped to a tone that sent shivers thought her body. "Is he up for another round?"

"P-Peter? Peter Smith?"

"Oh, so you remember," he jeered. "Good. I heard about your little mishap at the voting booth." All she could do was nod. "Let me tell you some, sweetheart. _I'm_ keeping my position, got it? And I'm running for mayor, too. And there's nothing you can do about it."

"What makes you think the public's gonna vote for you?" she counter, "Charles Newton had already won the last three by landslides." Peter Smith rested his hand on Lotso.

"Lotso, could you send that little note I wrote earlier to Chuckles?"

"Yes, sir," Lotso obeyed, starting to get up.

"But first," Peter ordered, holding a hand up, "I want you to take care of the lady. Take her to the asylum, she needs her care."

"_What_?" she shrieked. "No!" Lotso grabbed her wrists. Fighting back, Bonnie tried to throw her arms over her head. Failing, Lotso took his club from his belt and hit against her rib cage, causing her to double over in pain and letting out a chilling cry. "You can't do this," she struggled to say between labored breaths, "I'm perfectly sane! I'M COMPLETELY SANE!"

* * *

Jolting to an upright position, Jessie breathed heavily as she wiped her face with the blanket in her hands. As she felt the remaining tears strolling down her face, she looked cautiously around the room, carefully peeling off the covers from her body as she touched the wooden floor with her toe. Noiselessly, she rubbed her chest until she felt the fragile gold chain against her neck and traced it to her charm, grasping it tightly as if it were her life.

"Woody," she whispered, rushing to his room. Tapping his doorframe for reference as she strained her eyes too see around the room, she tiptoed in and vigilantly slipped onto his bed, rubbing his shoulder to wake him up.

"Mmph," he groaned. She repeated her action. "Mmmmmmph."

"Woody, get up," she pleaded. "I had the dream again. The dream about mom."

"What is it, Jessie?" he moaned.

"I had the nightmare about mom, Woody. I'm scared." Her brother, taking a deep sigh, pushed himself against his bed frame and rubbed his eyes.

"Can't this wait till the morning?" he complained, lighting a candle. Watching the candle glow, he looked up to see his sister. The flame glistened her sweat and tears on her exhausted face. Her eyes looked sad and her hands grasped her untidy braid until her knuckles were white. "Oh Jessie…"

"Can I stay here, Woody?" she requested, crawling into bed with her brother. "I can't go back to mom's old room. Not tonight. I just can't."

"Alright," he approved, wrapping her in his arms as he rested his chin on top of her head.

"I feel so bad, Woody," she admitted, tracing an imaginary line with her finger on the comforter. "I could've saved her. Climbed through the window or…or gone through the voting entrance. I shouldn't've ran away. I knew that at the time, but I still did it anyway." Her voice dropped to a shaky whisper. "I'm a terrible daughter."

"You're _not_ a terrible daughter, Jessie. You were fourteen at the time. You shouldn't even have seen that happen."

"But she's _not_ crazy, Woody."

"I know that, Jessie. We all do, including Pete." He looked down as he heard sobs from his younger sibling. He rubbed her to soothe her guilt, his jaw clenched in fury. "Don't worry. He'll pay." He watched as she subconsciously caressed his scar on his shoulder. "He'll pay."

* * *

"Wake up, you two," Bo's voice called out as she sauntered into the room. "I didn't see you in your room, Jessie, so I figured you'd be in here," she explained with an understanding smile. "Today is the big day," she announced as she went into Woody's closet, "The renters are coming today. They'll be staying till the end of the month, so I hope you two will be on your best behavior for thirty days." Throwing a shirt at Woody, she motioned Jessie to follow her.

"What is it Bo?" Jessie questioned, entering the shepherdess's room. She watched her pat the seat in front of her, indicating that the redhead should sit in it.

"I'm going to do your make up," Bo informed with a smile.

"Oh no you won't!" Jessie objected, darting out of the chair and heading for the door. Before she could reach it, the door slammed shut and Bo's hand rested on it.

"I'm not taking no for an answer, Jessica," Bo said with a smirk, "Sit." The eighteen-year-old plopped in the chair again, scowling at her as she grabbed her make up kit.

"Today is the day the McWiggins are moving in," Bo explained, brushing facial powder on Jessie's face which caused her to sneeze. "I want you to look your best and presentable."

"Y'know, I just _loved_ the way you told Woody about me and their son," Jessie sardonically remarked.

"Suck your cheeks in," Bo instructed, pulling out the blush. "Oh Jessie! He didn't think any of it. I never said you were in love with him or anything. I _promise_ I won't say one word about you to him. Open your mouth slightly."

"Are ya therr?" she quizzed, her mouth somewhat open.

"Yes I'm sure, Jessie," Bo promised, applying a peach-colored lipstick. "Look at it this way, I trust you with me. I've liked Woody ever since I could remember and you never-" The blonde covered her mouth quickly as her eyes grew wide.

"You like my brother?" Jessie asked, her mouth getting wider with a grin.

"I m-mean he's a good friend and-"

"You _like _him," Jessie repeated with a mischievous grin. "Oh this is too good…"

"Close your mouth, Jessie, I have to finish your lips," Bo uttered with a hint of annoyance as she watched Jessie tilt her head side to side in smugness.

* * *

A knock on the door was heard which sent the three houseguest in a scattering fury. Bo finished dusting the tabletops, Woody straightened out the antiques, and Jessie placed her flowers in the vase at the dinner table. Jessie muttered under her breath while Bo started to cough.

"Shh, you guys." Woody ordered, causing the two females to place their hands on their hips in irritation, "P-please?" meekly begged, trying to avoid a feud with them. Opening the door, three relatives stood in the doorway; a man, woman, and a young male. The man was plump but still well dressed in a gray suit that had been tailored to his body type perfectly. A slight five o'clock shadow covered his face. He tipped his hat in greetings. The woman next to him fidgeted her hair clip that held her black curls apprehensively and her other hand held a petite, beige handbag with fabric flowers coating the front of it. The son brushed his shirt and peered inside, catching eye contact with Jessie. His brown eyes sparkled as he gave her a warm smile. The cowgirl looked away quickly while biting her lip, then snuck a glance or two when he wasn't looking.

"Hello!" Woody proclaimed, stepping aside and motioning his arm for the family to step inside. "We've met before. I'm Woodrow Anderson. But you can call me Woody."

"I'm Jessica Jane Anderson but you can call me Jessie."

"And I'm Bo Peterson."

"Nice to meet you all again. I'm John MiWiggins," the man introduced. "This is Sally and here's my son Alan. But we call him Al for short."

"Well, I hope you enjoy your stay here," Jessie said, subconsciously poking her up-do Bo created.

"We sure will," Sally piped in, "We own a chicken farm back in Missouri so living in a farm for a month will make us feel right at home."

"The farm back in Missouri will soon be Al's chicken farm," John announced, wrapping his arm around his son defiantly, "Lets hope he keeps as nice as your place. He still has all his childhood toys. He has so many toys that-"

"Dad!" he cut in, elbowing his father.

"Let me take your bags in," Woody suggested. He turned to his sister and gave a wink, "Jessie, why don't you show Al his room?"

"Sure thing, Woodster," she agreed through clenched teeth.

**I know, the dream opening is so cliche. But I couldn't help it! And yes, it is Al from Al's Chicken Toy Farm (or whatever it's called). Now don't throw tomatoes at me yet, you'll see where I'm going with their relationship in a little bit ;-)**


	6. Chapter 6

The sound of Buzz's pen dragging across the paper in front of him distributed throughout his office's atmosphere. Sighing, Buzz pushed his chair back and looked up at the ceiling. Stretching his arms in front of his body, he let out an audible yawn. He drunk in the sun beaming out the window next to him and looked at the paperwork ahead of him. It had only been three months prior of learning the information from his father that he was going to heir the business.

I think that was an excuse for him to pass all his work to me…Buzz thought. He grabbed the newspaper from the corner of his desk and read it out loud. "'Peter Smith wins the Mayor Title'. 'Peter Smith steps in as mayor after mayor Charles T. Newton, also known for having the name Chuckles, retired. Peter Smith had already passed reforms such as'-"

"I'm in love, Buzzy Boy!" Ken announced bursting through the doors with his arms over his head.

"Oh no…" he mumbled, rubbing his forehead.

"I know I just met Barbie but I…I feel it in my heart," Ken continued, grasping his chest as he sauntered to Buzz's desk.

"Or in your pants…" Buzz grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"She makes me happy. I could just stare in her eyes all day. And I think she likes me. We talked some more the other day."

"What did she say that makes you think she likes you?"

"Well, she was struggling to get a hat from the top shelf and asked me to get it." Buzz gave a perplexed shrug.

"So?" he probed, crossing his arms.

"So…" Ken clarified, "there were many people around her and she asked me to get the hat for her. And her height is the same as mine. She could've gotten it by herself but instead, she wanted to be close to me so she asked me to get it for her."

"Hmm…"

"Also I saw her again," Ken uttered with disgust. "You know, the girl that's coming in with the blonde all the time? She's wearing a brown dress today. It's torn at the edges like usual and there are popped seams at her waist. Her hair is tucked in with a head scarf and she topped it all off with a ghastly red unmatching hat with another veil."

Buff chuckled inwardly at his heated friend. "If she bothers you so much, why don't you help her with her selection."

"All she does is just look around. She never buys anything."

"Maybe she doesn't know where to start," Buzz suggested, starting to write again, "And I know a certain fabric designer could help her out." Ken moaned loudly and walked over to Buzz's side.

"And of course a certain heir can take a break from his paperwork for once."

"Fine!" he exclaimed, putting his papers down in hopes of avoiding another lecture from his friend, "I'll go with you if you try to help her. Deal?"

"Deal."

"You know, you're starting to sound a lot like my father…"

* * *

As Jessie rummaged through the clothes in the Lightyear Clothing shop, she periodically displayed a dress to Bo and asked for her opinion on it.

"It looks good, Jessie," Bo sighed, crossing her legs restlessly on the chair she sat in while waiting for her friend to complete her task.

"Do you think he'll like this one on me?" she quizzed, holding out another dress in front of her.

"Are you sure you don't like Al, Jess?" Bo asked with a giggle.

"I'm just tryin' to figure out what he-" Feeling a gentle arm on her shoulder, the veiled shopper turned around to 'see' a young man.

"Hello, miss," he introduced, squinting his eyes in trying to distinguish her face, "I'm Kenneth Carson, the fabric designer for this store. I'm noticed you girls have been visiting the store these past few days and it seems that the one of you it looking for a dress. May I be of an assistance in selecting your outfit?"

"I don't-"

"Actually," Bo piped in, "I have a question about your sewing patterns."

"Oh, erm, OK. Well, lets go to the back and I can see what I can do…"

After the designer and shopper sauntered to the back of the store, Jessie held out the dress again and grimaced. From what she could see through her veil, she decided the dress was too rigid in its fashion sense for the vivacious cowgirl. Meanwhile, Buzz peered through the store display window and rose an eyebrow. Why does she completely cover herself anyway? He knew he probably shouldn't have bothered her, but temptation overcame him as he walked into his father's store up to the observing redhead.

"Is everything OK?" he questioned diplomatically when he reached her.

"Y-yes, sir," she assured, slightly startled by his unexpected touch.

"Do you need help picking out a dress?" She stood silently as she tilted her head, looking around thoughtfully. "Come with me," he requested, linking arm to arm as he walked over to the opposite side of the store.

"D'ya work here?" Jessie quizzed suspiciously, causing Buzz to gasp and separate himself from her.

"Excuse me! Oh how rude of me," Buzz interjected, facing her, "I'm Edward Lightyear. My father owns this place and the industrial building next door."

"And I'm Jess…or, uh, Jane. Do you own part of this store?"

"Well, I'm the heir of it," he explained, fumbling through the clothing racks. "I'm not exactly sure when I'll inherit them. But I know it's not anytime soon due to my young age."

"How old are you?"

"I'm twenty. Now what's the occasion for the dress? A dinner party? Or just to wear around to do your errands…" Jessie wrung her hands together bashfully as she stifled an embarrassed giggle.

"Oh," she began, pausing to think of what to say, "We have renters ov'r at the farm so I figured I gotta get a dress 'cause I want to look nice." An understanding grin expanded on Buzz's face.

"I get where you're coming from," he assured, holding out a dress, "Now here's a beautiful yellow dress that I think would compliment your skin tone perfectly. Well, I can only tell what skin tone you have by your hands…"

"That's nice," she lied, striving to see clearly through her veil. "I like the flower on the waist."

"Uh, ma'am, that's not a flower you're pointing at," Buzz clarified, raising an eyebrow, "That's a ribbon. Can you see clearly under that veil?"

"I'm good."

"Why do you have that veil? If you don't mind me asking…"

"I have it for protection. From the, uh, sun. I burn like a piece o' coal in a fire pit in this weather." Buzz chuckled at her analogy.

"I hear you have a southern accent. Your voice is very charming," he admired. Feeling her cheeks burn red, she was thankful for the veil covering her. Although she couldn't get a clear view of Buzz and he no idea what he looked like, she had never been complimented on her voice before which made her slightly sheepish.

"Why, thank you, Edward."

"So, are you going to take your hat off?"

"I-I'm sorry, Eddy, but I can't. I hope ya understand."

"Eddy?" he questioned with a grin.

"What? You don't like it?" she questioned, twiddling with her fingers. He waited for a moment before answering her question.

"If you call me Eddy, I'll call you Janey." Jessie's eyes grew wide.

"What kinda nickname is that? I'm not allowin' it!" she teased. "There's no way you gonna call me Janey."

"Well then you'll just have to call me Buzz. And another thing, Jane…"

"Yes?" Buzz slowly raised his hands towards the costumer.

"Would you please take off your veil already?" he demanded playfully, "I want to know what you look like. How else am I going to find a dress that flatter your features?"

"Nuh uh," she halted, grabbing his hands in defense from his pulling it back, "How 'bout I just describe me to ya?"

"Go ahead," he urged, dropping his hands, slightly surprised by his levity with a costumer.

"I got green eyes and…a nose in the middle of my face like any other person. I got lips. My hair is red and…my face is somewhat of a heart shape. Are ya happy?"

"You're a challenge, Jane," Buzz admitted, letting out a guffaw. He then noticed Bo beginning to walk over towards them. "I see your friend over there buying her pattern. It looks like it's time for you to go. I hope I see you stop by my shop again. Maybe then we can pick out your dress."

"Thanks," she beamed, hooking arms with Bo, "See ya. Buzz…"

**This chapter came out funky...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Filler. I was too impatient to finish the rest of the story and submit all at once so here's a snippet.**

"Well, it's nice to have the new roommates go out to the market," Bo pointed out as she soaked the dishes in the bucket of water that was ahead of her, "Gives me a break for once."

"Well, I'm glad you get along with them easily, Blondie," Woody huffed as he dried the clean plates.

"What do you mean by that?" Bo asked, pausing to turn to the concerned brunette. Woody faced her and smiled, shaking his head quickly as he picked up the rag again to wipe the plate in his hand.

"Nothing, Bo, really," he assured, not wanting to worry the shepherdess. Her consoling touch on his arm sent shivers down his spine.

"Really?" She knew him too well.

"It's just…I'm afraid of a romance forming. Feelings could get hurt and things can get complicated," he clarified, thinking of Jessie and Al.

"A romance between who?" Bo questioned, squeezing his arm. Looking at her in silence, Woody impulsively leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek and slowly pulled away.

"I finished the last dish," he informed, staring slightly above her head with no emotion. "G'night." Starting to stroll out from the kitchen, he heard Bo's voice, causing him to freeze in his tracks.

"You don't usually do that," she whispered, rubbing her forearm apprehensively. "That kiss."

"Of course I do," he responded, looking over his shoulder, "I always give you a goodnight kiss on the cheek. I've been doing it every since we were kids."

"You've never kissed me-" she cut off, swallowing the awkward feeling she felt before spurting out the subsequent words out of her mouth "-you've never kissed me like _that_ before." He stayed silent. "You know, maybe it's because you have a lot on your mind about Jessie and Al and the new roommates, but you've been very odd this past week. What's on your mind, Woody?"

"Nothing."

"Woody-"

"_Nothing_, Bo. I'd…I'd rather keep this to myself, if you don't mind." Startled but his hostility, Bo crossed her arms defensively. Relaxing his face, Woody span around completely and sighed. "I'm sorry, Bo." Walking up to him, she cupped her hands on his cheeks, searching his eyes.

"That's alright, cowboy. I know you mean the best. Whatever it is, I'm always here to hear you out." Sauntering out of the kitchen, Woody stopping in the hallway and turned his head to look at the portrait of Bo that hung in front of him.

"That's the problem," he murmured, delicately touching the frame, "you're the only person I _can't _talk to about this." Suddenly, an idea came to him. Sneaking into his sister's room, he reached for her drawer by her bed and groped for matches to ignite the candle that was on the top of the desk. After doing so, he took the lit candle and moved it closer to the bed, gently shaking his sister.

"Jess," he whispered, ignoring her protests of waking up, "Jess!"

"What Woody?" she sprang up in frustration, causing Woody to shush her, "D'ya have to wake me up right now? Couldn't ya wait till the mornin'?"

"Pipe down Jessie," he hissed, "I need to get this off my chest."

"Since when d'ya need _my_ help with anythin'? I thought you were the 'lone ranger' who didn't need anybody."

"I'm serious, Jess, I need to talk to you."

"Talk to Bo," she commanded, plopping her head on her pillow impatiently.

"That's the problem, Jess. Bo. I think I may like her."

"No kiddin'," Jessie muffled into her pillow.

"I mean _really_ like her. I don't know what to do. Sometimes I can't stand to be around her. Not because I hate her or anything but…I don't know. I don't want to look like a fool. Yet I want to be around her. All the time. I've never been in love before. I'm thinking it just may be an infatuation but this has been going on for a while now." Woody knew his sister wasn't listening. It was evident by the soft snores she was executing. But it felt good to him to say his feelings out loud. Smiling at his slumbering sibling, he brushed her crimson hair from her cheek and pecked her gratefully. "Hopefully I'll figure things out soon."

* * *

The next morning, Woody found Mrs. McWiggin frying bacon on the skillet as John and Al McWiggin along with Bo Peterson and Jessie Pride joyfully consuming them along with some fruit that had been picked from their fruit trees in the backyard. Swallowing her food quickly, Bo patted the seat next to her when she caught eye contact with Woody.

"Join us, Woody!" she invited, reaching for an apple, "The fruit trees are producing fruit like mad and Sally makes the best bacon!"

"Oh shoot," Sally McWiggin objected with a playful swat, "I wouldn't call mine the best, darling."

"I-I can't, Bo," Woody said, wrapping his robe around him tighter, "I have to work in the back." _Couldn't come up with anything more original, Woodster_? he asked himself in his head, knowing that he just wanted to avoid Bo to have time to think.

"Well here," Bo called out, tossing the apple towards him, "You should at least get _some_ kind of a meal." Showing a smile, Woody said his thanks as he walked out the screen door.

"So Jessie," Al started, causing the redhead to squeeze her fork in a nervous shock, "Later on do you want to go on a horseback ride?"

"Yes!" she enthusiastically accepted. Clearing her voice and regaining her composer, she lowered her voice and ignored Bo's smirk. "Sure thing, Al. Can't wait." She looked out the window to see that her brother was mindlessly throwing chicken feed around and observed the scattering chicken. "May I be excused? I, uh, have to check on Woody for something."

* * *

"Woody," Jessie shouted as she approached the cowboy. "What's goin' on?"

"Nothing, Jessie."

"Save me that crap Woody," Jessie interrupted with a sly smile. "You know that I'll keep pesterin' you about this until you break." Woody grinned at his sister; she was a feisty one.

"It's about Bo." Jessie threw her arms up in faux shock.

"Surprise of all surprises!" she announced in exasperation, "OK, Woody, what is it now? The same stuff we've been going over for how long now? I've lost track."

"I just don't know what to do."

"I _told_ you she likes you! But you don't believe-"

"She shows no signs. I-It's hard to read her, you know?" At this point, Jessie knew to leave her brother alone by the tone of his voice.

"Hey," she interjected, "I'm gonna take the horses out. Al and I are gonna have a horseback ride." Pulling down his hat to cover his face, Woody grimaced and let out a labored sigh.

"Don't stay out too late, Jess."

* * *

As the two 18-year-olds rode their horses, they noted the dark atmosphere surrounding them.

"How long have we've been out here?" asked Jessie, watching the sun setting in the distance.

"It must've been hours," Al answered.

"We better get back, Al. My brother will kill me if we stay out here any later," Jessie pointed out, steering her horse back towards the house.

"Wait up," Al called out, digging his heels into his horse's side to catch up with the cowgirl. "I can't believe time passed so quickly." Then, something caught his eye. "I never noticed that necklace before."

"Oh," she replied, grasping it, "It was my mothers. W-well, my grandmother's then she passed it down to me."

Al let out a small, amused whistle. "It's gorgeous. Is it real gold?" Jessie nodded her head defiantly.

"Yup. My grandparents were gold miners and my grandfather had this made for her. These are also real diamonds," she proudly told him.

"A beautiful object of a beautiful girl," Al complimented, causing Jessie to duck her head sheepishly.

"W-we better get back," she suggested with a smile, "I'll race ya."


End file.
